


Pinch and Poke

by bioloyg



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, Bottom Sam, Fight Sex, I'm shameless idk how this keeps happening tho, M/M, PWP, Pining, Porn with Feelings, Sparring, and a pinch of plot, but look how fun that tag is, hell yeah HELL YEAH, how the fuck did I get 4900 words exactly?, sorry - Freeform, the smut is minimal my guys, two parts Bucky wtf are you doing you idiot, well - sparring that leads to sex anyway
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-24
Updated: 2016-11-24
Packaged: 2018-09-01 21:50:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8639536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bioloyg/pseuds/bioloyg
Summary: The fic wherein Bucky tests Sam's limits and discovers his own along the way.~"This round is more unforgiving than the previous ones. It’s prolonged, sweaty, and both of them are very obviously rankled. No matter how hard each of them try, they can’t seem to pin down the other. They know each other’s tactics too well – know each other’s bodies too well. And yet not at all."





	

**Author's Note:**

> WOO! If you follow me [@zamnwilson](http://zamnwilson.tumblr.com) you know exactly what this fic is and exactly what made me write it. If you're not, then SURPRISE! I got excited about the idea of Bucky using Sam's tactile weaknesses against him and it ended up morphing into a fic where they spar and then fuck. What can you do?
> 
> Lmao anyway I hope you guys enjoy!  
> Any and all mistakes are mine (and there may very well be some so feel free to point em out).

Bucky notices it for the first time during a meeting on a Saturday morning. Actually, that's a lie. He's lying to himself. He's noticed it before, but this was the first time he bothered to pay attention to the meaning behind it all.

Tony stands beside Sam and places a hand on his lower back as he leans in to say something. An innocuous happening if there ever was one. But then Sam's posture stiffens and he shuffles to the side under the pretense of offering Tony more room. Now, on its own that's not really a big deal. People are allowed to be weirded out by certain interactions. Bucky understands the need for personal space more than anyone. However, Bucky thought it was a physical thing. That Sam didn't like being touched, or at least not by certain people. That's not it at all though. Sam will accept a clap on the shoulder without so much as wincing. In fact, he'll lean into it. So, Bucky's next assumption is that Sam prefers being clapped on the shoulder to being touched on his lower back.

Wrong again. As it turns out, it's a bit of a mix. Intertwining preferences if you will.

It's not exactly unusual to dislike being touched in a certain place by certain people, but when those lines cross and intermingle... let's just say Bucky is curious. Though, he's only curious because he has a theory, because after careful observation he's noticed a few things:

  1. There are specific places Sam does not liked to be touched. Big whoop, right?
  2. Well yes actually... because some of those very same places can be touched and Sam will almost melt into the embrace.
  3. So... Bucky has come to a very interesting conclusion. Sam is tactile and doesn't mind being touched by anyone. There are a few exceptions that are understandable, but overall he's fine with anyone in his space as long as it's within reason.
  4. What Sam DOESN'T like is being touched in areas that he has obviously deemed sensual.



Now, what the hell does that mean?

Exactly what it sounds like. Sam has certain spaces on his body that are only to be touched by either close, close friends or romantic interests. And how does Bucky know this?

That's irrelevant. What's important is that Bucky is very close to confirming his suspicions. He only needs to do one more thing...

~

It starts out simple enough, so as not to arouse suspicion. Bucky intentionally comes to meetings a minute or two late and then finds his way to Sam's side only to lean in and whisper, "What did I miss?"

Now, Bucky could have easily addressed everyone in the conference room, as he has done so many times before, but that's not the point of this experiment. Bucky is more interested in the way Sam shivers when whispered to. Even more so in the way Sam gets goosebumps if Bucky touches his arm _while_ he whispers. It's an interesting response, and one Bucky hasn't seen yet.

He's seen Sam grimace, outright frown, and shy away from touch - but he's never seen Sam shiver. So with these little tidbits in mind Bucky amps up the game, and with his persistence comes one very big problem.

It all starts when he and Sam get lunch after crawling through paperwork for the better part of the morning. With Steve away on some vague covert mission with Sharon (read: while they fuck in a motel room) Sam and Bucky have been forced to work together a bit more frequently. Of course, Bucky uses this to his advantage to continue testing Sam's limits, so it’s not an issue. For example, when they were doing paperwork earlier he took it upon himself to sit as close to Sam as possible. All in good fun of course.

Except, somewhere in the midst of all this "experimenting," Bucky finds out something about himself.

He  _enjoys_  being close to Sam. More so than he realized. So much so that when he and Sam aren't touching Bucky will subconsciously seek him out. And it's a harder habit to break than Bucky ever would've thought. Which is exactly why Sam catches Bucky staring at him over lunch. Of course, Bucky lies on impulse to cover his ass, but it's in the worst possible way.

"You have something on your face," he says, and before Sam can do anything about that Bucky brushes his thumb across Sam's lower lip.

Time freezes for just a split second, in between that touch and Bucky's next words. His thumb tingles and his face heats up as he realizes what he _really_ wants to press against Sam's lips are his own.

Bucky pulls his hand away and clears his throat. "There, all gone."

Sam's mouth hangs open for a moment before he scrunches his eyebrows and says, "Thanks... but I think I could've gotten it myself."

"I didn't want to watch you miss it. You're embarrassing enough to be around as it is."

The deflection, which is exactly what it is, works like a charm. Sam rolls his eyes and says, "If anyone is embarrassing here it's you. Being in cryo doesn't give you any excuse to dress like you stepped out of the 80's."

Bucky shrugs and leans back in his chair, smiling. "Nobody's given me any complaints so far."

Sam just sighs and shakes his head before going back to eating his lunch.

~

After that Bucky pulls back a bit. Just to re-evaluate his game plan, not because he thought he had feelings for Sam. He doesn't. He and Sam don't - they aren't - it just wouldn't work. Bucky knows that.

Sam requires a certain something that Bucky's not so sure he has to offer. That and he doesn't have feelings for Sam. Psh. That would be - ridiculous... wouldn't it?

So, he avoids Sam for a little bit. Within reason. He obviously can't avoid Sam when they go on missions together, but when they're on base or at headquarters and don't  _need_  to be around each other Bucky keeps his distance. Until he can't anymore.

See, the thing about Sam is that he's magnetic. Not even in a romantic or sexual way. Although.... anyway he's pleasant to be around. That's just  **it** , and almost everyone who knows Sam feels that way, so it's not just Bucky. But specific to Bucky and his life is the way Sam treated him like an adult when he was recovering instead of some delicate faberge egg.

Sam was easy to talk to - easy to feel  _normal_ around. So now, when Bucky avoids interacting with Sam for long periods of time, he kind of feels like shit. Not mentally, but he can tell there's something missing. A light and humorous quality no one else really matches up to. Yet, while Bucky can admit this to himself, it’s irritating rather than calming.

This – this attraction isn’t new. In fact, it’s at least a year old. Once Bucky felt a little more level-headed, he started going on missions. To him it felt like evening the score. Even if he could never take back what he did in the past, he could at least do some good in the world to counterbalance, and Sam supported him – when Bucky was being rational. Sam would even accompany him on some of the missions, and Bucky had to admit he loved having eyes in the sky. He could do pretty much anything without Sam’s help, but having it made things go _so_ smoothly. And that right there is the reason why the attraction even came about in the first place.

He and Sam are compatible in a very odd way. They look like puzzle pieces that shouldn’t fit together, but when you turn them a few times and find the right edges it’s a perfect match. They _work_ , and Bucky could only ignore that for so long, so when that reserve of indifference and denial ran dry – feelings wedged their way in.

Bucky jabs the punching bag in front of him with his right hand and tries to focus on the ache in his hand instead of the thoughts swimming in his head. He wishes he and Sam never met sometimes, because while he and Sam are compatible they aren’t right for each other. Or rather, Bucky isn’t right for Sam. Sam is more than perfect to Bucky, he’s – it doesn’t matter. Sam deserves better.

Bucky swings at the bag with his bionic hand and the chain holding the bag squeals in protest. With a sigh, Bucky puts his hands out and stops the bag before resting his forehead against it. He knew before he started this little experiment of his that it was a bad idea waiting to happen. He did it anyway. Anything to have an excuse to be close to Sam.

 _How could you be so stupid_ , he thinks to himself. Bucky cocks his right arm back and punches the bag so hard it splits. Sand pours from the wound and spills onto the floor as it swings back and forth.

Not too far behind him, Bucky hears a voice say, “Rough day, huh?”

He turns and sees it’s Sam, because why would the universe ever let him have any peace? Bucky takes a deep breath to level himself before saying, “Not at all. What makes you think that?”

Sam lifts an eyebrow and looks at the punching bag behind Bucky. The chain chooses that moment to snap, and the bag falls onto the floor. Once it does Sam looks back up at Bucky. “Nothing in particular. Just a guess.”

Bucky nods once. “Well, I’m fine. Did you need anything else, or?”

“Yeah actually,” Sam says. “I came down here to ask you if you wanted to spar. Rhodey and Steve are busy, and Nat is… Nat.”

Bucky snorts. “I’m a more suitable sparring partner than Natasha?”

“You won’t go easy on me like Steve does, but you won’t hurt me like Nat would, so yes.” Sam shrugs off the zip-up he was wearing and gestures toward the wrestling mat. “You comin’ or not?”

As soon as Sam turns his back to Bucky, Bucky tilts his head up and closes his eyes. _God, I didn’t say anything after the whole Hydra thing, but I’m starting to think you’re fucking with me._ He takes a deep breath, pushes down the attraction, and looks back down. This is a bad idea, but he’s made enough of those in the past week for this one not to matter. It’s not even icing on the shit cake at this point, it’s just a candle.

But candles burn…

Bucky gives Sam about two seconds warning before he sweeps his feet out from under him. He rolls to the side to avoid any hit Sam _might’ve_ had and says, “So how are we doing this?” He tries not to feel so smug about taking out a little bit of his frustration on Sam, but he doesn’t make a point to hide it.

Sam turns to him with a dirty look on his face. “For starters, I’d like to define when the rounds start and end.”

“Shoulda started with that don’t you think?”

“You didn’t even let me start at all.”

“I just did.”

“Oh my god,” Sam groans as he picks himself up. He dusts himself off and says, “Punching is fine, face hits are not. Each round ends when someone gets pinned.”

“What exactly do you consider being pinned?” Bucky asks, arms crossed.

He probably shouldn’t have been so cocky, because Sam takes him down without warning and holds Bucky’s right arm behind his back. Sam leans down and says, “When the opponent can’t break the hold, or when they willingly yield.”

Bucky heaves a breath onto the mat and flexes the hand beneath Sam’s grasp. He tries not to think about how Sam is on top of him right now and instead asks, “And how do we determine when a round begins?”

Sam releases him and steps away. “Easy. We’ll count.”

As Bucky hefts himself up he says, “I don’t know if I can trust your count.”

“That’s why I said **we**.”

“Fine.”

“ _Fine_.” Sam widens his stance and raises his arms. “On three.”

“One.” Bucky balances himself.

“Two.” Sam shifts his weight from foot to foot.

“ **Three**.”

Now, being Sam’s de facto sparring partner has taught Bucky a few things, first of which is to never _ever_ hit Sam first. He made that mistake going into their first sparring session together – all the while not knowing that Sam knew MMA. And Sam is _good_. His offense leaves something to be desired if he gets riled up, but his defense is amazing. He’s the kind of fighter that needs to be tired out if you want to beat him, and Bucky’s not embarrassed to admit Sam has flipped him onto his ass more times than one. So, rather than spring at Sam when they say ‘three’ Bucky bobs in place with his hands up and reads the situation. Problem is, Sam seems to be doing the same.

Where Sam’s offense fails, Bucky’s does not. Everything about the way he operates as a soldier, as _weapon_ , is offensive, and considering his strength and ability to heal – defense isn’t as big of an issue. Which is where Sam has Bucky beat. It makes for very interesting matches, that’s for sure.

When neither of them has hit each other in the first twenty seconds, Bucky says, “Are we actually gonna spar or are you planning to stand there for an hour?”

Sam smiles. “Waitin’ on you princess.”

“Princess is it?” Bucky lurches forward just to see Sam move backward. He smirks. “I wouldn’t get too cocky if I were you.”

Sam rushes forward with a low kick and then a swift one-two punch. Bucky deflects all three hits in some way or another and they break away from each other. Sam wets his bottom lip and says, “I’m not being cocky. _Yet_.”

Bucky narrows his eyes. _If that’s how it’s gonna be, then let the games begin._

Their limbs are a flurry of short punctuated movements, all carefully thought out so as to evade capture should they miss their mark. When Sam lands a punch, he doesn’t get greedy and throw two more, he pulls back. And when Bucky manages to knock Sam down, he makes sure that Sam _stays_ down. In the event that he takes Sam down too early – well, let’s just say the score is 1-2, Sam.

This time when Sam tries to land a kick Bucky is ready. He catches Sam’s foot and drags him forward only to tackle Sam to the floor, but Sam still has enough stability to keep Bucky from knocking him down. Sam even manages to get one arm around Bucky’s neck, despite being bent over him in an awkward position. It takes a moment for Bucky to break Sam’s hold, and when he does they both step backward from one another to assess the situation again. Sam is getting tired, Bucky can tell. All he has to do is land a few more punches and Sam is done for. He doesn’t let himself overthink it, either. He just goes for it.

Bucky punches with his left to get Sam to deflect with both hands (metal is unforgiving), and uses the opening to punch Sam in the side with his right. When Sam hunches forward Bucky kicks low and grabs at his abdomen again. This time they _do_ make it to the floor, but the angle is no better as Sam has managed to fold himself in such a way that makes him impossible to pin.

Sam knows he’s got the upper hand despite being below Bucky, so he uses his legs to push up as much as he can and flips them over so that Bucky is on the mat. Unperturbed, Bucky uses their new position as a way to maneuver himself behind Sam so that he can get a better hold on him. And get a better hold he does.

With his back on the floor, his legs wrapped around Sam’s waist, and his arms just beneath Sam’s armpits to keep him at bay, Bucky leans in to whisper, “Do you yield?”

Sam shudders ever so slightly, which wouldn’t be so obvious if Bucky weren’t currently wrapped around him like an octopus. “ _No_.” Sam forcefully brings his arms down in hopes of breaking Bucky’s hold to no avail.

To keep him from trying that again, Bucky punches him in the side a few more times, but the way Sam is moving makes it near impossible to land all of them. He tightens his grip on Sam and says again, “Do – you – _yield_?”

Sam arches his back and lets out a groan, all of which Bucky tries to ignore. With one last huff, Sam lets out a defeated, “I yield,” and falls limp against Bucky.

Bucky releases Sam from his grasp and backs away as quickly as possible. He needs to get this fog out of his head. This thick cloud of emotion that’s suffocating all his other thoughts. That constant hum of _touch, warm, please_.

Not even fighting with Sam is enough to keep the itch at bay – distracting as it is. Bucky combs his fingers through his hair, pulling it slightly to ground himself, and then shapes it into a bun. He brings his right wrist to his mouth and drags the rubber band off with his teeth before using it to secure his hair.

When he turns around Sam is staring at him. “What?”

Sam shakes his head. “Nothing. Last round, are you ready?”

Bucky lifts an eyebrow. As much as he wants to be annoyed by Sam’s attitude right now, it’s just another tally on the list of reasons why Bucky wants to be close to him in the first place. It’s that spark in his eye, the sharpness of his tongue, and the gentle caress of his personality.

  _Focus, Barnes._ Bucky clears his throat and says, “Are _you_?”

This round is more unforgiving than the previous ones. It’s prolonged, sweaty, and both of them are very obviously rankled. No matter how hard each of them try, they can’t seem to pin down the other. They know each other’s tactics too well – know each other’s bodies too well. And yet not at all.

Finally, at least ten minutes into their fight, Bucky breaks out of a chokehold by falling to his knees and flipping Sam over his shoulder and onto the mat. He uses the split second Sam is dazed into inaction to climb atop him and force his arms down and into the mat. Only after he’s done it does he realize the position he’s put them in. Sam, supine on the mat, and Bucky between his legs… holding Sam’s hands above his head.

They stare at each other for a moment, both a little out of it. Bucky hopes that Sam doesn’t catch the way his eyes dart to Sam’s mouth. He tightens his grip on Sam’s wrists and says, “Yield?”

Sam looks like he wants to test the limits of Bucky’s hold again, but in this position it could result in a very awkward situation. Still, Bucky feels Sam’s resistance against his hold. Sam doesn’t look defeated either, though his eyes are narrowed with a singular kind of scrutiny. “No.”

“No?” Bucky repeats, incredulous.

A small grin plays at Sam’s lips and before Bucky knows it he’s been outmaneuvered. Sam brings up a leg and catches Bucky in just the right position to tip him to the side. He follows the motion, breaks Bucky’s hold on his wrists, and then tries to hold Bucky’s arms down. Bucky isn’t having any of that though, so it becomes a slap fight of sorts where each of them moves and counters in a completely unproductive manner.

“You gonna yield?” Sam asks with an infuriating lilt in his voice.

Bucky twists his body and manages to throw Sam off of him. Both of them rise, out of breath, and stare one another down. Bucky wipes his mouth with the back of his right hand and says, “Not until you make me.”

Sam straightens himself out and raises his hands. “Oh, I’ll make you.”

Bucky tries, and fails, not to be affected by the way Sam says that. Not that Sam notices. “Bring it, bird brain.”

“Anytime you’re ready snowflake.”

The force of their blows carries them to the edges of the mat, and just when Bucky thinks they won’t surpass that boundary, they _do_. And they keep going. By this point they’re going for halting blows, anything to hurt the other _just_ enough to pin them. Bucky could’ve sworn Sam would be tired out by now, but if anything Sam is blocking and countering with increased fervor.

While Bucky actively dodges and lands punches where he can, he takes a split second every now and again to find a way to put an end to this. In the middle of one of those distractions, Sam kicks him in the ribs. Hard.

Their heavy breathing fills the empty space of the training room until Sam says, “You alright old man?”

Bucky laughs. “I’ll show you an old man.”

While Bucky was distracted enough to earn himself a kick in the ribcage, he found a way to sweep Sam off his feet. Literally. And as soon as they’re close to it, Bucky pushes Sam right into the felled punching bag from earlier. He falls with a sharp “ _oof_ ,” but that’s barely out of his mouth by the time Bucky is on top of him again.

“ **Yield** ,” Bucky says – or rather, orders. He makes sure his legs are on either side of Sam’s waist this time.

Sam lifts his head up to whisper, “ _Not until you make me_.”

Bucky sucks a sharp breath inward. He’s not so sure he likes his words being thrown back at him while they’re in such a suggestive position, because he would love nothing more than to make Sam – Bucky lets the breath out in a rush. “You’re the one who’s pinned.”

Sam jerks his hands to the side and the sand on the floor aids in his movement, which causes Bucky to fall forward. He and Sam are only a few inches apart now, and Sam moves his arms just a little bit more until he can say, “I’ve gotten on top of you before,” right by Bucky’s ear.

Bucky squeezes his eyes shut and wills all the images that sentence conjures up _away_. When he opens his eyes again he gets even closer and tries to beat Sam at his own game. “That might be true, but I’m on top right now.”

Sam’s arms flex ever so slightly. “Doesn’t mean you’re gonna win.”

“Doesn’t it?”

Sam leans back down so that he can look at Bucky. “No.”

With that, Sam pushes his arms as far apart as he can get them until Bucky falls on top of him. Both of them grunt in protest, but then Sam pushes Bucky to the side and gets up. Bucky doesn’t give him time to get far though, or time to breathe for that matter. He’s ending this match and he’s ending it now.

With a heavy breath outward, Bucky says, “How ‘bout now?” when he corners Sam again.

Sam looks at how his arms are pinned by either side of his head and then looks at Bucky. With his back against the wall Sam _could_ roll to one side or the other, and he _could_ kick Bucky and break free, but that’s not what happens. Instead Sam says, “Looks like you’ve got me right where you want me.”

“Sure do.”

“And what are you gonna do about that?” Sam asks, but there’s something in the way he says it. Something about the way he looks at Bucky when he asks… And it’s something that makes Bucky lean forward and capture Sam’s lips.

Sam lets out a surprised noise, but it quickly dissolves into a hum as he kisses Bucky back. It’s biting and harsh, and every bit of it makes Bucky’s nerves _sing_. Everything seems to slot itself into place then, and instinct takes over. Bucky releases Sam’s wrists, but only so that he can grip Sam’s thighs and heft him up. Sam follows the motion beautifully and wraps his legs around Bucky’s waist just as he links his arms around the back of Bucky’s neck and deepens their kiss.

Bucky’s fingers dig into Sam’s thighs, and suddenly every bit of clothing they have on feels like a barrier. Bucky knew how good it felt to be close to Sam, how hugs felt like balms, and smiles like a warm sunny day. He _knew_ and yet he’s still surprised by the electric feeling he gets when Sam nips at his bottom lip, or when Sam rolls his hips.

He groans and his hold on Sam slips for a second, which is enough to break him from the moment long enough to say, “What are we doing?”

“Kissing,” Sam replies, matter of fact, though the brevity is ruined by his breathlessness. “Or we _were_.”

Bucky shakes his head as he swallows. “No, I – what does this mean to you?”

Sam’s face closes off abruptly, and suddenly Bucky feels as if he’s done something wrong. “What does it mean to _you_?”

“ _Sam_ ,” Bucky says, exasperated.

“Put me down.”

“Sam, wait.”

“James.”

Bucky falters and says, “I’ve wanted this for the past year.”

That’s enough to get Sam to look at him again. “So what’s stopping you?”

“Not knowing if you want the same things I do.”

Sam sighs. “I can’t tell you that if I don’t know what you want.”

“ _You_ ,” Bucky answers, annoyed. “I want you.”

Sam’s eyes soften and he pulls Bucky in again. “You can have me. If you’re nice.”

Bucky can’t help but laugh. “You’ve got the wrong guy then.”

Sam kisses him before he can say anything else. Just once. It’s enough to warm Bucky from the inside out though. “If he takes any longer to decide _how_ he wants me then you might be right.”

Bucky’s grip on Sam tightens. He leans in and drags his lips up Sam’s neck before whispering, “Then tell me - how do you want me to take you, Sam?”

Sam clutches the back of Bucky’s neck. “Sometime today, preferably. I’ve been waiting a whole year.”

“You’re infuriating,” Bucky says as he walks them to his room.

Sam adjusts his hold. “You’re obnoxious.”

Bucky crosses the threshold to his room and kicks the door shut behind him. As soon as he drops Sam onto the bed he says, “You are so goddamn stubborn.”

Sam pulls him in by the collar of his tank top and crashes their mouths together. Bucky doesn’t waste any time waiting to get back into the motions of it and sweeps his tongue across Sam’s lips. Sam opens up for him beautifully, and hums as Bucky rakes his fingers up Sam’s back, dragging the shirt with him.

Sam lets go of Bucky long enough to get his shirt off and say, “If I’m stubborn, then you’re an asshole.”

Bucky kisses him once more then pulls at the waistband on Sam’s sweatpants until they’re off. “That’s old news, sweetheart. Everyone knows I’m an asshole.”

Sam groans when Bucky sucks a mark onto his neck. He threads his fingers into Bucky’s hair and lets out a sharp hiss when Bucky bites. “ _Yeah_ , for getting me hard and doing nothing about it.”

Bucky bites Sam’s collar bone and then runs his mouth over the indentations his teeth left. “Tell me what you want then,” he says as he rolls his hips against Sam.

“ _Fuck_.”

“If that’s what you want…”

“You’re the absolute – _ah_ – worst.”

Bucky pulls away and takes off his shirt before reaching for the lube by his bed. “Doesn’t sound like it.”

Sam rolls his eyes. “I don’t know what I see in you.”

Bucky pulls Sam’s boxers down and strokes him once, firmly, just to grab his attention. It works – if making Sam moan means it worked. Once the boxers are out of the way Bucky spreads Sam’s legs apart slightly and runs his hands up his thighs. Goosebumps follow in his wake, and when Bucky’s hands reach Sam’s waist he pulls him forward. “I think what you see is me in _you_.”

Sam laughs and says something about Bucky being corny, but it all gets a little bit muddled right around the time he slips his second finger into Sam. From there on it’s just the two of their bodies, mingling on a level that feels cosmic. The way that Sam wraps himself around Bucky is a religious experience in and of itself, but the way he moans Bucky’s name – fuck when he says _James_ in that voice – that’s on a different level entirely. And when Sam says, “harder,” Bucky braces himself on the wall and drives his hips forward until Sam arches his back and scratches Bucky’s.

But, above all else is the way Sam feels cuddled up against him, long after they’ve showered together. It’s the gentle touches, the barely there caress, _that_ ’ _s_ what gets Bucky – and it gets Sam too.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading. If you enjoyed it, please feel free to comment below and yell at me about my life choices <3


End file.
